


Bloody Obvious

by Cedara



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-25
Updated: 2006-02-25
Packaged: 2018-08-15 17:24:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8065357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cedara/pseuds/Cedara
Summary: Postep, 3.03 "Extinction." (12/08/2003)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: Spoilers for 3.02 "Anomaly," 3.03 "Extinction."  
  
Thanks to Mareel for giving me such a thorough beta. If you still find any fault in this story, it's entirely mine.  


* * *

_They've taken him away. His mate._

_Mate had brought food to him. He had shown mate he was the leader. Mate had accepted. Mate had submitted to him. He had shared food with mate. Mate had eaten it from his hand._

_He had smelled mate's desire. During the fight over the food._

_Desire. For him._

_He wanted mate. Wanted mate so much it hurt..._

...Awake. Again. Sitting up, Jonathan glanced over at the pillow where Porthos normally slept. Crewman Cutler hadn't brought his dog back yet, as she and Phlox both had

insisted that he got back to normal first. So Porthos was staying with her overnight. In the meantime, Jonathan had the dreams to deal with.

Dreams with a slight variation in style or ending. Sometimes he was back out there in the ruins, his normal self looking at his Lo'queque dream self. Occasionally, he was just dreaming of seeing the populated old city. But almost every time, each of his dreams ended with their fight over the grubs. Whenever he was there, his dream self had

smelled Malcolm's desire for him, and he had felt his own body responding.

Even though he had ignored his feelings for Malcolm over the years, currently his subconscious was a bastard, reminding him of them every night. Oddly, it also liked to torture him with images and smells to show him that his desire wasn't unwarranted. But things had been easier as Lo'queque. They'd been more primal. No rules telling either him or Malcolm it was _inappropriate_ to feel that way.

In a way, Jonathan envied Trip. He envied his old friend his ability to get Malcolm to forget about ranks and thus to forge a friendship with the lieutenant. Trip and Malcolm were on a first-name basis, even on duty. This was something Trip only did with Jonathan when nobody else was around. In contrast, during the past weeks in the Expanse, Jonathan had probably managed to blow his own small successes in reaching less formality with Malcolm; something he had tried to achieve with such difficulty of the last two years.

During the incident in the Command Center, Malcolm only had voiced his security concerns to him, like he always used to since he had started to open up. But instead of acknowledging as he usually did, Jonathan had become the captain he never wanted to be to Malcolm, dressing him down in T'Pol's presence. In consequence, Malcolm had withdrawn from him, doing his job, though never again voicing his concerns in his presence. But then, somehow it all had changed during their away mission on the Lo'queque planet.

Afterwards, when Jonathan had slowly returned to his normal self, he had begun to wonder if his eagerness for revenge against the Xindi had begun to affect him more than he wanted to admit to himself. Whenever he spent a night in the Command Center, going over yet another part of the Xindi database, he felt it. It was similiar to the way he'd focused on his work during the Warp5 project—everything else became unimportant, even relationships. Only that this time, there was anger involved.

Maybe it was time to mend a few fences.

* * *

Standing in front of Malcolm's quarters, Jonathan wondered for a moment if his coming here hadn't been a really bad idea. Suddenly the door opened.

"Captain?" Malcolm looked surprised. "Is everything all right?"

"I'd like to talk with you about something in private, Malcolm." Noticing his outfit, Jonathan realized that Malcolm almost looked like he was heading for bed, wearing sweatpants, a tight shirt and socks. The only thing that didn't seem to go with that outfit were the running shoes in his hands. "Am I interrupting anything? If you were going somewhere...this can wait."

After gazing at Archer intently for a moment, as if hesitating about what to say, Malcolm's eyes met his. Then Malcolm answered, "No, Captain. What I was about to do can wait another few hours." On that vague note, he stepped aside. "Please, come in."

Stepping inside, Jonathan closed the door behind himself as Malcolm put the shoes down by his bed.

Turning back to him, Malcolm asked, "So what would you like to talk about, Captain?" Pointing towards the couch, he added, "Please, have a seat."

"Since we're both still on medical leave," Jonathan said, as he sat down on the right side of the couch, "I though this might be as good a time as any. Off the record, Malcolm."

Surprise showing on his face, Malcolm looked at Jonathan for a moment, before he

responded, "Alright. Then, if you don't mind," he said, walking over towards Archer and sitting down at the other end of the couch, "I'd rather sit than stand right now."

For a moment, there was silence between them, and Jonathan wondered how to start. He could face complex first-contact situations, handle a group of Andorians as well as stubborn Vulcan diplomats, but facing Malcolm was harder than he'd ever expected. The man in question was sitting on the other end of the couch, less than an arm's length away from him, and looking at Jonathan curiously. Yes, this time he was sure about it. Curiosity.

Meeting Malcolm's gaze as he turned a little towards him, Jonathan slowly began. "I have dreams...about that city we were heading to, Urquat...and other things..." Noticing the small frown forming on Malcolm's forehead, he quickly continued. "Before you say that I should talk to the doctor about this...he hasn't been there. And some hypo can't assure that I'd stop dreaming and remembering, no matter how hard Phlox might try. Can you recall anything before Trip took you away from me...our group?"

If he'd taken any note on Archer's slip of the tongue Malcolm didn't remark on it. Instead, he seemed to think seriously about it. "The drive to get to the city, yes. You'd taken leadership in that. And I remember we fought over the grubs I got you. You took them away from me, but you shared them later." Malcolm smirked. "I think Madeleine would say you were the typical alpha male there—and I the submissive one."

"She's a zoologist, isn't she?"

"Yes, she is." Malcolm answered. "I wonder what she would make of this...," his voice trailed off.

"Yeah?"

"Since we were all so primal—who would you have taken as a mate? Theoretically of course, since T'Pol was immune..."

Did he imagine it, or was there something in Malcolm's eyes that seemed to want to challenge him? Cautiously, Jonathan answered, "I don't know. Maybe neither of you."

"Why? From what I could gather from the report copies I saw so far, these Lo'queque did want to repopulate the planet. So they must have tried to make sure their virus would work. But then T'Pol didn't accept the grubs from you, and since Hoshi got her own you barely noticed her..."

There it was again...the smell from his dreams, soft but enticing, distracting him from whatever he wanted to say. "Malcolm..."

"Yes?"

"I really don't know who I would've picked then." Jonathan paused, considering his next move. Holding Malcolm's gaze, he continued, "What I know _now_ is that it would've been neither Hoshi nor T'Pol."

"Oh." Malcolm smiled. "I thought as much."

"You thought as much?" Jonathan wondered, amazed that Malcolm took this so calmly. But then, to him this was probably still just a theoretical game they were playing. There was only one way of finding out. "Was I that obvious?"

"You were." Malcolm leaned over to Archer's side of the couch and the enticing smell in Jonathan's nose became stronger, then suddenly ceased. "You were bloody obvious,

Jonathan."

"Was I?" Jonathan asked softly, leaning closer, wanting to meet Malcolm halfway.

"You smelled too good. Too damn good," Malcolm said softly, closing the last centimeters between them as their mouths met for their first kiss.


End file.
